


Monaco

by warriorpoet



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2797280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warriorpoet/pseuds/warriorpoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse inched backwards subconsciously, sneakers dragging on the floor. Walt stayed with him until Jesse hit the wall with a grunt and Walt rasped his thumbs along the stubble on Jesse's jaw.</p><p>Jesse went slack underneath him, too stunned to protest.</p><p>Walt smiled with pursed lips. "You know what this means, don't you?" he asked, voice breaking with restraint.</p><p>"I... I got you a birthday present?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monaco

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karmula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmula/gifts).



> A Blue Christmeth gift for otsiwrites. Hope you enjoy!

Walt was dazed.

He watched the second hand ticking by, in time with Jesse's footsteps. Time stretched, thick and slow, the hands of the watch moving through syrup, sneakers crunching on gravel dropped in pitch to a low tympanic boom.

Then it all caught up with him.

"Jesse, wait."

The car door slammed behind Walt, and Jesse froze, keys in hand.

"Yeah?"

"I, uh..." Walt closed the watch box and studied it. Tag Heuer. Swiss. A beautiful, intricate piece of machinery. Several thousand dollars at least. The gesture was more than that, though. So much more. "Thank you," he said.

"Yeah, man, no problem. I mean, I guess there's been a couple times this past year you didn't think you'd get another birthday, right?" Jesse laughed and scratched the back of his neck. "No thanks to me most recently, so... yeah. Like I said, happy birthday."

"Come back inside for a minute."

Walt didn't wait for an answer, simply went back inside the Vamonos office with Jesse's footsteps a second behind him.

Mike was gone, the lights switched off, blinds shuttered, business closed for the day. Walt flicked the fluorescents back on, and Jesse stared at him as they buzzed back to life, casting shadows under his narrowed eyes.

"So... what's up, Mr. White?"

The watch box clicked as Walt set it down on the desk. He tapped it with his index finger, one second, two seconds, three, before he turned his attention to Jesse.

"Mr White? Did I... yo, did I cross a line or something? Like I said, receipt's in the box, you can straight up return it, get the cash. I won't be, like, offended or whatev– "

He broke off as Walt stepped closer and cupped Jesse's jaw with both hands. Walt studied his face, the straight line of his nose, the pink swell of his bottom lip. The ice blue shards of his irises, thin capillaries along the whites of his eyes, flickering away as Jesse blinked rapidly.

Jesse inched backwards subconsciously, sneakers dragging on the floor. Walt stayed with him until Jesse hit the wall with a grunt and Walt rasped his thumbs along the stubble on Jesse's jaw.

Jesse went slack underneath him, too stunned to protest.

Walt smiled with pursed lips. "You know what this means, don't you?" he asked, voice breaking with restraint.

"I... I got you a birthday present?"

"Jesse, no. Tell me. I need to hear it. What was it that drove you to do this?"

His head shook between Walt's hands. "I don't know what you want – "

"You're truly sorry for what you did, aren't you?" Walt pressed the pads of his fingers deeper into Jesse's skin waiting for a response. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah. You know that, Mr. White, I said that already, I – I said I was sorry for almost shooting you."

"You were wrong about me," Walt prompted quietly.

Jesse remained mute, his eyes wide and frozen in Walt's gaze, breath coming in short gasps that Walt could feel on his own lips. He trailed a finger along the stubbly skin of Jesse's throat, the vulnerable soft spot of the shivering carotid pulse. It called to Walt, spurred him on, made him surge forward to press his open mouth roughly against Jesse's slack lips, to swallow Jesse's sudden moan of surprise and the involuntary response of his tongue. The muscles of Jesse's neck seized, he snapped his head to the side. Walt pulled back.

"You were wrong about me," he prompted again.

"Uh, yeah, apparently. What the hell, man – "

"Jesse. Say it."

Walt pushed closer, chest to chest with Jesse, hip to hip.

Jesse's gaze dropped to Walt's mouth. "I was wrong about you," he murmured.

"Yes," Walt breathed. One hand moved to bunch Jesse's layers of clothes at the scruff of his neck, his hips pressed forward again to grind into the body he had pinned against the wall. "That's good, Jesse. That's smart. You're thinking." 

Jesse sucked air through his teeth, made a pained noise as the back of his head hit the wall. " _Fuck_ , what're you – "

Walt's cock throbbed, heat pooling in his groin. His free hand slid under Jesse's shirt where it rode up against his stomach, and slid a rough line up to his chest, nails digging into the hollows between his ribs, scraping through sparse hair. "You changed your mind about me."

"Yeah... yeah, I changed my mind about you. Ahh!"

Walt twisted Jesse's nipple and latched his mouth onto that sweet soft spot on his neck, the pulse of the artery warm and alive under the skin, under his tongue. Walt wanted to taste every inch of him, make his mark on every vulnerable place on Jesse's body. Wanted to fit together with him like the cogs and gears inside that watch, the small pieces that worked together in perfect precision to make time move forward. To make action, momentum.

"Good, Jesse," Walt murmured before kissing his slack lips again. "That's good. Thinking for yourself."

Jesse's brows knotted together, confused, because that made no sense, of course it didn't. Walt put his hands where Jesse's jeans rode low on his hips, went down inside as far as he could reach, and Jesse's expression was wiped clean.

"I want you to go get the watch and put it on me. Will you do that for me?" 

"Yeah," Jesse said, a barely audible exhale. "Yeah, I can do that."

He slipped out of Walt's grasp, the extraction slow and agonizing. Walt held himself back from grabbing the back of Jesse's hoodie again, throwing him back up against the wall, lifting him up off his feet, ripping him open any way he could, devouring him. All he could do was follow behind him, moving without thinking.

Jesse's hands were steady as he pulled the watch from its box, turned to Walt and took his outstretched wrist. 

"Get on your knees," Walt said.

Jesse rolled his eyes, tried to brush it off. "What, like I'm asking you to fuckin' marry me or something?"

He refused to look at Walt, his face flushed. Walt wanted to touch him again, to feel how warm he'd gotten. 

Walt put a gentle hand on his shoulder, then added a firm downward pressure. Jesse went with him, glancing up as a barely audible plea of, "Do it," escaped Walt's mouth.

On his knees, his hands fumbled slightly as he pulled off Walt's old calculator watch and wrapped the leather band of the Monaco snugly around Walt's wrist, gently stroking skin as the buckle was tucked closed.

Walt palmed the soft fuzz of Jesse's buzz cut. "Thank you, Jesse," he murmured.

Jesse warily eyed Walt's straining zipper. "S'okay."

With a hitching inhale, Walt nodded down at him. "You know what to do."

Jesse's hands were unsteady with his new task, clumsy on the belt buckle, at the zipper of Walt's slacks. Annoyance and impatience flared up behind Walt's arousal, and as Jesse finally eased his pants open, Walt couldn't hold back anymore. He grabbed the back of Jesse's head and yanked him toward his crotch. The humid heat of Jesse's open mouth traced the cotton-clad outline of Walt's cock. Walt thrust forward, smothering Jesse, grinding into his mouth, until the frantic fumbling of Jesse's tongue and Walt's hips let the tip of his cock free. 

Jesse slid his lips over the head, finally looking up as Walt bucked forward with a surprised grunt, his dick one raw, open nerve. He drank in the sight of Jesse on his knees, face caught between Walt's hands, the blue face of the watch bringing out the color of his eyes. The wet mouth stretched open around him, hands braced on Walt's hips, underwear damp with Jesse's spit and Walt's precome.

It was everything, and it still wasn't enough. 

"No. Get up," he panted, straining to still his hips.

Jesse stumbled to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He eyed Walt uncertainly.

Walt started to tuck himself in, tried to catch his breath, but he couldn't wait any more. He grabbed Jesse at the waist and hiked him up onto the desk, paper and pens and file folders slamming to the floor. He pulled at his jeans, ripped at his belt, barely stopped to undo the fly before Jesse pushed his hips up and Walt yanked his jeans and boxers down to his ankles. 

He didn't stop to admire the scene, something that, in the back of his mind, he knew he would regret later when he was alone, driving home, running his index finger along the smooth leather band of the watch. Instead, he quickly took Jesse's erection roughly in his hand, his left hand, the perfectly crafted timepiece turning into nothing more than an indistinct blur as he twisted his wrist up the shaft, pressed a thumb into the leaking head.

Jesse let out a low moan that edged into pain and leaned back, propping himself up with his hands behind him, letting his head fall back to stare at the ceiling. 

"Jesse. No. Put your hands on my shoulders," Walt demanded through clenched teeth. "Look at me."

He nodded shakily; wincing as his hands on Walt's shoulders were rewarded with a rough tug to his cock. 

"Good. Good." Walt's free hand gripped Jesse's bare thigh as he fit himself between Jesse's knees, unconsciously moving his hips, the fabric of his pants scraping against Jesse's tender skin. "Tell me again."

Wide, blue eyes stared blankly at Walt.

"Tell me again why you gave me a gift."

Jesse's tongue snaked out, wet his bottom lip. "I was wrong about you."

The soft slide of skin over the hard, rigid length of Jesse's cock.

"I changed my mind about you."

A growing slickness under Walt's hand as he stroked up and covered the head with his palm, then squeezed tightly on the downstroke.

"I'm sorry for what I thought."

Walt huffed out a breath and tipped forward, resting his forehead against Jesse's as he looked down at the frantic coupling of hand and cock. The hand on Jesse's leg left deep white imprints behind that quickly turned red as Walt unzipped his pants again and pulled his own erection free. His hips rocked, he held Jesse at the small of his back and pulled him closer, his cock nudging along Jesse's thigh and against his balls. 

"Kiss me," Walt said.

Jesse kissed him, messy and loose, hands moving from Walt's shoulders to cup the back of his head. Walt returned the touch, tilting Jesse's gaze down to his lap.

"Do you like this?" Walt asked.

"Y-yeah."

"Tell me."

"This is good. I like this, Mr. White."

Walt's hand tightened, sped, twisted, with the fast, slick noise of skin on skin.

"Are you going to come?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. Gonna come. Just... more... little more."

"Lift your shirt up."

Jesse growled deep in his throat and bucked his hips up into Walt's hand. He pulled back, pulled his shirt up to his chest, and Walt changed the direction of his hand on Jesse's cock to paint thick stripes of come across his belly. He pulled his hand away quickly, careful not to mark the watch.

"Good," Walt panted, surveying Jesse's sprawled and dishevelled form. He nodded to himself, absently touching his own blissfully persistent erection as Jesse's slowly began to flag. "Good, Jesse."

"Oh, my God," Jesse groaned, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes. "What... what was that?"

"Flip over now. We're not done."

Jesse's hands dropped in his naked lap, eyes widening, a brush of panic sweeping over his face.

"Come on," Walt urged. He smiled, gentle, desperate. "I need this from you."

Jesse slid from the desk, forgetting that his ankles were still bound by his clothes, and almost fell before Walt grabbed him, steadied him, helped turn him and bend over the desk. He kept Jesse's shirt lifted up on his chest, stroked his sides, ran his hand through the mess on his front before pressing Jesse's head down to the surface of the desk and transferring Jesse's come to his own cock.

He spat on his hand and slicked himself up, Jesse's semen and his own saliva. He yanked Jesse's hips higher, spread Jesse apart and worked the tip of his cock inside.

Jesse shouted a protest and twisted to glare at Walt.

"What, not even a fucking courtesy finger?" 

"I'm not going to hurt you, Jesse."

The low note of pain from deep in Jesse's throat only served to send spikes of arousal shooting through Walt until his skin burned with the energy. He crackled with need, the need to be inside Jesse, inside his mind, his heart, his body. To work him from the inside, for Walt to move, to think, to feel, and Jesse so surrendered to him that he was unable to respond with anything less than perfect lockstep precision.

As Walt inched forward and pulled slightly back, forward and back, over again until he had buried himself fully inside Jesse, the sounds of pain in the boy's throat became razor-edged and tore their way out of his mouth. His face was red, his eyes screwed shut, tears leaking from the corners.

"Jesse. _Jesse_. Take my hand."

Fingers groped and twined together, the watch on Walt's wrist a black and blue halo above the coupling. Jesse squeezed his hand, hard, as Walt began to move. With each thrust, Jesse's face became slacker, the noises he made curling up in his throat again, low and warm, thick with pleasure.

"There. See? You know I'd never hurt you."

"You'd never hurt me, Mr. White." 

The broken whisper echoing his words made Walt fuck him harder, squeezing Jesse's hand in a bone-shattering grip, moving his free hand underneath Jesse to find his dick at half-mast. Walt squeezed him there as well, rough tugs in time with his thrusts, just for the fun of it, to see if he could get Jesse off again, to see if he was as skilled at making Jesse respond to him as he wanted to be.

"Tell me again, Jesse," Walt huffed.

He spoke in staccato moans that fit between the ravaging of his body. "I changed – my mind about you. I was – I was wrong about you. You wouldn't – ever hurt me."

"Yes," Walt breathed. He needed more contact. He needed to cover Jesse, to meld into him.

He let go of Jesse's cock and tugged his own shirt up as far as he could before he folded himself over Jesse, yanked Jesse closer, chest to back, nose pressed into the nape of Jesse's neck. Walt inhaled him, sweat and cigarettes and the ghost of cheap cologne. He returned to trying to wring a second orgasm out of him, pounding into him, the desk banging against the wall, its legs screeching against the bare floor.

Jesse pressed his mouth to their clasped hands, squeezed tighter, bit into Walt's flesh and his own, an indecipherable curse in his mouth. Walt felt Jesse's orgasm in his own cock before he felt it spurting between his fingers.

"The things I do – " he rasped in Jesse's ear. "The things I do, I do to help you. I wouldn't ever hurt you."

Jesse nodded quickly, shortly.

"Say it!"

He unlatched his mouth from their hands. "You do it all to help me. You'd never hurt me."

Walt let go then, groaning between Jesse's shoulder blades, pumping his release, deep, deep inside Jesse's body, deep where he belonged.

He stayed there, holding Jesse up to his chest, catching his breath, for as long as he could. Jesse unwound his hand from Walt's grasp and only then did Walt flex his hand, the joints stiff and painful, and admire how stunning the watch was, even under these ugly, buzzing fluorescents. 

Walt pulled out, used paper towels and water from the water cooler to clean himself up before tending to Jesse. He circled the cool, damp towel over Jesse's back, wiping the sweat away. He carefully cleaned Jesse's stomach, his cock, his inner thighs. Walt ignored the cleft of Jesse's ass, raw and open. Let him keep that. 

Jesse looked over his shoulder to watch, breathing heavily through his mouth, still bent over the desk. 

"There," Walt said, and reached down to lift Jesse's boxers and jeans back over his hips. Jesse stepped away from the desk, started zipping himself up, buckling his belt, as Walt picked up the scattered debris on the floor. 

"Are we, uh... are we good?" Jesse asked, his voice thready and cracked.

"Of course," Walt said. "Thank you again. For the gift."

He gestured to the watch. Jesse blinked at him slowly, dazed.

"Uh, yeah. No problem."

Walt approached him slowly, cupping a hand to his jaw. "I appreciate everything it means."

Jesse nodded, picked at his nails, frowned at the fragment of a bite mark near the base of his thumb, like he couldn't remember how it got there.

"You're good to lock up here?" Walt asked.

"Uh-huh." Jesse looked him in the eye, level and steady. "I'm good."

And with that last assurance, Walt turned to go, stepping outside to check the time in the light from the fading sun.


End file.
